This process is slow and insidious. First, she is not a neat person. I find myself picking up and cleaning where I would never have done so before. Gay? She does not like make-up. She seldom wears lipstick mascara or rouge. Yet I am still attracted. Gay? I know what rouge is. Gay?
Next she slowly gets me hooked on TV shows I never before would have even paused over on the remote; “The Bachelor” and “The Bachelorette.” I began saying things like “I wonder if Jason will choose Amy. They have had such an awesome journey and shared such amazing times.” Or “I hate that Robert, how can Sarah give him a rose? He is sooo inattentive.” Gay?
She now has me hooked on “Americas Next Top Model”, “Project Runway”, and “Say Yes to the Dress.” The other day I caught myself saying, “That dress has too much rouging, I hate the crumb-catcher, there is no wow factor and the mermaid cut does not go with her figure.” GAY!!
Two weeks ago she actually had me watching soccer…..WOMEN’S SOCCER.
As I sit on the toilet peeing, I worry about this transformation. It is not that there is anything wrong with being gay; it’s just that I thought I had the whole straight thing down, and I think I am too old to change.
My last hope is football; NFL football. I thought I was doomed while it looked like a strike/lockout would cancel this year’s season, but it seems that was settled. I am saved.
Football! Hitting, gouging, dirt, blood, fights, pain, guys carried off the field on a stretcher. Football! Just in time to keep me on the XY chromosome team.
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